Before the Golden Age
by Eugene6022
Summary: I have a disease. A mental disease really. A disease that could mean my death. But I guess what they say is true. You can't help who you love. I could have at least pretended. Pretended that I wasn't in love with a man. Dally/Soda, don't like, don't read.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! So, I'm a new writer to fanfiction. SHOULE BE FUN! I'm SUPER excited! This is going to be SUPER inappropriate, with lots of slash, so please give feedback, whatever. Reviews would be appreciated.**

* * *

He breathed heavily in my ear. He wasn't the type to whisper sweet nothings to me while we fucked. Honestly, he never had been. He used to foreplay a little, kiss me softly on the couch and such, but no longer.

He pulled out with a horrible squelching sound, and the emptiness that suddenly filled me hurt. But not as much as the emptiness that would fill my heart if I didn't have him.

He was the only one for me. Literally.

I suffered from a rare condition. A mental condition really. I'm not sure if I had always been this way, or it was just recently, but I had attained it somehow.

I felt my body tumble to the floor, although for a second I had no idea how I'd gotten there.

"David?" I inquired. He sighed in annoyance. He was probably trying to sleep. He must have accidentally pushed me off the bed in the process. Yes, that must be it. "You pushed me off." I tried to mimic the playful tone that he sometimes used. Or, used to use. Back in the time when we were happy, when we were in love. That is why I stayed with him. The 'great perhaps' that someday we would be like how it was. But I understood, or I tried to. He was under a lot of stress at college and work and he didn't need the added stress of me being the worst, clingy boyfriend ever.

"Yeah, I know. Go away."

"Honey, do you want to-"

"Don't call me honey, you BASTARD! Get the fuck away! Go home!" I shuffled awkwardly over to my clothes.

David hadn't even removed my shirt, but who knew where my pants, shoes and sox were. My underwear was hanging around my ankles, and I pulled them up hurriedly.

"David, where-" In answer to my unspoken question, I heard rather than felt the _thwack _of my pants hitting my face. My shoes followed suit, hitting their respective targets with more painful blows.

I should have kept quiet. I should have been understanding of what he was going through, and just kept quiet. That would have solved everything. But no. "Fine, be that way." I retorted snobbishly.

I felt a body hurl itself at me, slamming me against the closed and locked door. I shook my head, dazed. My eyes welled with tears. Whatever his faults, David had never hit me. I almost didn't believe it, except there he was, towering over me, a look of fury masked over his handsome features.

I scrambled out of the bedroom, dragging my clothes behind me. _Ok. _I thought to myself. _Ok, you are just going to go home and give David his space._

I was just pulling on my second sneaker when David came out. I didn't look at him when I said goodbye.

I was halfway to the door when I felt the hand on my shoulder. I let out an un-manly squeak that I'm not proud of.

David laughed slightly. "Soda, it's ok. I'm sorry, alright?"

"Yeah, ok, bye David." I didn't want to admit it, but in that moment I was scared of him. Scared of my own boyfriend.

"Soda!" I ignored him, and he yelled louder. "Soda!" He grabbed at me again, but this time he didn't let go. "Answer me!"

This time, I should have spoken. I guess I don't use my head. Not street smart or book smart, just plain dumb. But I didn't speak.

"Answer me!" He got frustrated. I could see the frustration build behind his eyes. He was going to blow up, but I didn't stop it.

He pushed me again. This time I fell back over the coffee table. I heard the glass shatter and a split second later, I felt the pain of the shards as they entered my skin. I groaned.

"Why Soda?" David was crying, and I wanted to comfort him. Comfort the man that just hurt me. I stood and kissed him quickly on the cheek, just to show him that he was forgiven.

He smiled and I left.

* * *

I must have looked a sight. limping with torn clothes through the streets of Tulsa in such early hours of the morning, most would consider it night. I left a trail of blood behind me, and thought ridiculously of the fairy tale of Hansel and Gretel. Except I didn't need the trail to find David's house. My cowardice would lead me back there.

I arrived at home at almost four thirty in the morning. Dally and Two-Bit occupied the couch, while Johnny slept on the floor. I smiled affectionately at them, not worrying about waking them up with the racket I was making. They were all probably drunk anyway.

I paused at my doorway. I didn't want to go in there. I never really liked my closet sized bedroom, But, Pony was too old to need someone to keep the nightmares away, so I couldn't very well go in his bedroom.

I heaved a sigh. I turned my doorknob, but thought better of entering. I wasn't really tired. I was almost to my bed when I changed my mind.

I padded back down the stairs, and Dally grunted. I froze, one foot hanging comically in the air. Dally stirred, and then blinked blearily at me.

He must have not been that drunk because his gaze was quite clear and focused, indeed, more clear and focused than most people after they just woke up.

"Soda?" He was up in a second, stepping on Two-Bit's chest in his hurry to reach me. "Soda, who the hell did this to you." It wasn't a question. Dallas Winston didn't question unless he was being polite. Everything he said was a demand, and he expected it to be carried out as one, like a general in battle.

"Um, I don't know." He looked intently into my eyes, as if trying to read the truth in my dark brown irises.

"Tell me."

"No."

"Tell me, or I'll-"

"You'll...what? Beat me up?" I grinned at him, trying to imitate the way my mouth feels when my smile is genuine and hoping that it didn't look gruesome.

"No, but I will tell Darry." His voice was even, monotonous, almost bored. I sighed and led him into the kitchen.

"Might as well. He can probably help with the glass." I was turned towards the medicine cabinet, but it wasn't hard to imagine Dally's expression: first his eyes would dilate in fear, but only the closest observer would catch the split second change. Next, his expression would turn stone cold, eyebrows pulled together in a sinister, murderous glare. He was very predictable to those who knew him.

"What. Glass." Each word was a sentence, and even I, who had never seen Dallas' reputation as anything more than a facade, felt a shiver of fear run up my spine.

"There's just some scratches. On my back." I pulled up my shirt so he could examine the gashes that I'm sure decorated the flesh of my shoulders and lower back.

He sucked in a surprised breath. "DARRY!" He shouted so loudly I was positive the entire neighborhood could hear it. "DARRY!" I heard the rumbling of footsteps from Pony and Darry's room.

"Really Dally. There was no need to wake the kid. He doesn't exactly need more gore in his life." I tried to pull myself out of Dallas' grip, but he hung on to my shirt so I couldn't escape.

"Dally, what the hell? I was trying to sleep!"

"Look at this!" Dally snarled, his voice low and deadly. I heard a gasp, and I finally wrenched myself away from Dally's grasp. I scowled at him, but he seemed immune to my anger.

"I'm fine. I'm just gonna go to bed."

"Soda, you might have to go to the hospital-"

"Well, if I do, I'll go in the morning." I stomped resolutely to my room, flopping onto my bed without bothering to take off my clothes. I didn't really want to examine my injuries.

That pain, and the pain in the ass of making up some excuse, would have to wait. I sighed, and my brain began wheeling with possible alibis, the list steadily growing more exuberant with each passing minute I fell into dreams.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey...so I'm gonna continue this even though I didn't get too many positive reviews. Oh well, I personally like the premise, so let us continue!**

**I don't own the Outsiders.**

* * *

I woke up to blue and white. Upon closer examination, I realized that it was Dally. I blinked to clear my vision.

"Hey." My voice was hoarse and didn't sound like my own.

"You didn't take out the glass." Dally said disapprovingly.

"Yeah...I was tired." I said lamely.

"Can you walk?" Dally growled. He stood up from my bed, obviously wanting me to follow him.

"Yeah, of course." I propped myself up on my elbows and hissed in pain. "Shit, aw fuck that hurts." I whined.

Dally rolled his eyes. He looked around shiftily and then picked me up easily. He was stronger than he looked and although it hurt like hell at least I didn't have to walk.

I protested anyway, telling him I could walk. "It's only me here Soda," Dally said almost gently. "Don't act so tough, you're hurt so let me take you down stairs."

"I can't go to the hospital Dally."

"You have to."

"I cant. It will mess everything up. They'll either think Darry abused me or I was jumped or something and then they'll take Pony away. They're watching our every move and we cant go to the hospital because of this. Please." Dally sighed in annoyance.

"Fine. But you have to actually heal. Calm down a little and get better." I nodded as he lowered me onto the couch so I was lying on my stomach. He left for a minute and came back laden with disinfectants and tweezers.

"Take off your shirt." He ordered. I did so, gingerly, and I heard him gasp softly. "Soda..." He said, and I knew exactly what he meant.

"No Dally, I ain't going to the hospital. It's not worth that. I could lose my little brother forever." My voice cracked and Dally sighed in defeat.

"Ok. Fine. Ready?" He held the tweezers over my back. I nodded, bracing myself. "On three. One, two-" He pulled out a particularly large slice of glass and I gritted my teeth to keep from screaming.

"You never told me who did this to you." Dally reminded me, conversationally.

I was silent. He pulled out another piece of glass. This time I didn't wince.

"So you aren't going to tell me? Will you tell anyone? Pony, Darry, Steve?" I snorted and shook my head. "Will it happen again?" Dally asked, sounding apprehensive of the answer.

"I...I don't know." I think he knew that that meant 'yes, it probably will happen again.'

He cleaned my wounds in silence for about 20 minutes, and when he was done he asked, "Are there any other injuries?"

"Uh..."

"_Soda_." Dally said dangerously.

"No." I could deal with the other bruises and cuts. I never found out if he believed me because just then there was a knock on the door. Nobody ever knocked on the door.

I gasped, my pupils dilating in fear. "Dally, it might be the social worker. I don't think she was supposed to come, but sometimes she just comes unexpectedly. Dally what do I do?" I whispered in panic.

He threw a blanket over me. "You're taking the day off because you're sick. Just act sick." He went to go answer the door. I heard voices, then Dally re-entered with the guest.

"Soda?" The voice sent chills down my spine. It wasn't a social worker-It was David.

"Uh, hi." I said, sitting up, my back screaming in pain.

"Is he a friend of yours?" Dally asked suspiciously.

"Yeah, kind of."

"Kind of?" David chuckled. "Soda and I were good friends at school. I just moved back to Tulsa and decided to check in on him. You ok Soda?" The concern in his voice sounded so real, even I almost believed his story.

Dally looked between us. "Well...I..." I knew he felt rather awkward, but quickly regained his composure. "I'll be going. Got some stuff to do today. You look like you're in good hands." He said to me.

He nodded at David and left, the door slamming behind him.

* * *

The minute Dally left, David gave me one of his signature glares. "What'd you tell them?"

"Nothing! I swear. They wouldn't have been so nice to you if I had told them who did this." David's face contorted into one of regret. He sat himself on the floor and took my hand in his, kissing it gently.

His lips felt soft on my skin and I shuddered. I had missed this side of David. He had been under so much stress at work lately. He barely had enough money to get by and yet he still had enough time to come visit me.

"I missed you." I told him softly, rubbing his hand with my thumb.

"I missed you, too." He told me. He pecked me on the lips and rested his forehead against mine. "Soda, you know I didn't mean to-"

"I know."

"I would never hurt you, I just..." He pulled away and rubbed his face with his hands tiredly. "I don't know what I was thinking. I'm sorry." I sat up despite the pain and kissed him passionately.

"I love you." I whispered to him.

"You too." He said, a little awkwardly. He had never said he loved me. I don't think he did, but he had the same mental disease as I did and I was his last resort. But no one could ever love me.

Well, maybe they could. a girl could love me, but I could never love a girl, not in a romantic or sexual way. I loved Sandy, I did. I thought that ever guy with a girlfriend was content to just hug her occasionally and hang out as friends. I really did care for her, but I didn't want her in the way a man love his wife.

So I was cursed to be attracted to men. But a man could never _love _another man. Maybe I would never feel that kind of love. So in a way, David was my last resort as well.

And I would stay with him forever, because I didn't want to be alone.


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you for all of the reviews! I Love them more than candy:))))**

**I still don't own the Outsiders.**

* * *

Dally came back an hour later, probably hoping David had left, but no such luck. Dally was kind of naturally anti-social, to tell the truth. He didn't know how to make friends, but he didn't usually need to so it was never detrimental to his tough rep.

"Hey." He grumbled. I pulled my hand away from David's, although he tried to hold on. I wondered if he was _trying _to get me killed. If Dally found me holding hands with a guy, I couldn't pass it off as nothing-Dally could see through a lie like everyone else can see through a window. And he wasn't innocent enough to not know that being gay was a dangerous mental disease.

"Hello." David said, sounding kind and almost professional. There was an awkward silence, and then David stood up, kissing me swiftly on the cheek before I could protest.

"I'm gonna get going. Hope you feel better Soda. It was nice catching up with you." He turned to leave, and came face to face with Dally, who was glaring at him with an intensity I had never seen. "It was nice to meet you." David said with a grin, holding out his hand.

Dally snorted. He took David's hand, and shook. I noticed that David winced. Dally didn't miss it either. A different look crossed his face, a curious almost triumphant look.

"Did you hurt your hand?" Dally asks innocently.

"Got in a fight." David muttered, having the decency to look down and blush.

"Ah. May I suggest you invest in some brass knuckles." Dally said sarcastically.

"Will do." David said, giving Dally one last strange look before leaving, the door slamming behind him.

"So," Dally said conversationally. "Tell me again why you're lying about the bruises and why you have glass in your back?"

"Because it's none of your business." I growled.

"Fair enough." Dally said, pacing. "However," he interjected the silence and turned towards me. "You and David seemed very friendly. And I asked around town if anyone knew him, and he's lived here all his life. So he isn't an old school friend, but why would such a stand up guy lie?"

"Then again, if he was such a good person, why would he get in fights?"

"You get in fights." I pointed out.

"I ain't a good person."

"What's your point Dally?" I asked tiredly.

"Well...I saw you and him kissing." My face paled, giving him all the evidence he needed. "So you're going with that son of a bitch?"

I nodded. Dally looked furious.

He lunged towards me, and I whimpered and covered my face, preparing myself for the blows. _Serves you right _ a voice in my head told me.

But the blow didn't come. Dally just stood there, still looking angry, fists still raised.

"Dally, I know. I'm sorry."

"_What _exactly are ya sorry for?" He asked gruffly, still looking ready to hit me.

"You know..."

"Savvy, I just wanna here you say it." I took a deep breath before beginning to speak, knowing that no matter what I said, I would end up getting beat anyway. That's just how things are, or at least they have been lately.

"I am sorry that I'm disgusting and that I don't dig broads." I mumbled, then look up at Dally through my eyelashes, ready to protect my face at any given moment.

"No!" Dally shouted. I cowered. My explanation hadn't been good enough. Obviously, nothing would be good enough except me liking girls. "His hand hurt. He's been hitting you. Only explanation. you can hold your own in a fight, and the Socs don't come over here no more, so it was _him._"

I nod, feeling tears come to my eyes. "Please don't hurt me." I whispered.

Dally seemed to realize that his fist was still raised. He dropped it, and I relaxed slightly.

"Soda, I ain't gonna hurt ya. Why would I do that?"

"I'm sick." I closed my eyes, feeling the sickness pulsing through my brain. "In the brain, so it can't be fixed by no doctor.''

"You ain't sick." Dally denied. "Nah, you're just plain stupid. You think I give a flying shit in what gender you fuck? Please. I come from New York. I knew more gays there then there are in Tulsa. Everyone's dabbled, hell, know I have, I care that your boyfriend is an asshole who fucking abuses you."

"You 'dabbled?'" I asked curiously. Dally shrugged.

"I had a boyfriend for a year or so before I left." He didn't elaborate, but I noticed an almost far away look in his eyes, that made him look a lot younger, or at least 16, like he actually was. He seemed to snap out of a daze. "But the point is, you have to dump him."

I looked down. "I can't."

"Why the Hell not?" He snapped.

"Because...He's all I have." Dally snorted derisively.

"No he ain't. You have your brothers and the entire gang."

"I don't mean I don't have people who love me...I mean...in the romantic department, he's my only option. If there's one good thing about David, it's that he is gay too. If he squeals, it's not just my head." Dally growled dangerously.

He leaned forward and kissed me passionately, leaving me gasping, although he looked completely composed. "There." He said, as though we hadn't just made out. "Now if I squeal it's both of our heads. My point is, being gay will suck ass in Tulsa because every gay is closeted but they exist."

"How exactly did that prove your point?" I asked, resisting the urge to touch my fingertips to my lips to see if that had actually happened.

"It didn't." Dally grinned. "I just wanted to do that."

I nodded in a daze. I could still taste him, and he tasted better than I could imagine. I guess I thought that he would taste like beer and cigarettes. Not that I had ever imagined...but he tasted clean; like shaving cream and cough drops.


	4. Chapter 4

**It's been a while. Idek if anyone reads this. Ok, well...cool. Also, I didn't do any research for this. The information and historical stuff is probably 100% incorrect.**

* * *

The days snailed by while I was healing. I went to work after just one sick day, explaining to a disgruntled Darry that I couldn't afford anymore days off.

In the evenings (usually my favorite part of the day) the gang always came over and bummed around. Each of them had asked me who I fought. I usually just gave them sarcastic grumbling answers and they could tell I didn't want to talk about it.

Even worse, I was barely allowed outside. Dally would glare at me and follow me sulkily. I had a feeling he would continue to do that until I broke it off with David.

After losing my fifth consecutive game of Texas Holden on Tuesday night, I stretched and tried to make a sneaky exit out the back door.

I looked discreetly to where Dally sat on the couch. He looked completely absorbed by a shallow conversation with Two-Bit about the girl on the TV screen. I stood without anyone noticing.

I sidled to the back door, picking up my shoes on the way. I caught Pony's eye and I gave him a smile and put my finger to my lips. He raised an eyebrow in a very Two-Bit manner. He didn't have any reason to keep quiet that I was leaving. If he used his head more, he would have known that if I was sneaking out, it meant I probably wasn't supposed to be doing what I was doing.

I let out a breath when I reached the end of our street.

It was cold for the first time this fall and I didn't have a jacket so I ran to warm up. I knew that at this pace it would take me ten minutes to reach my destination. It would be 8:50 by then.

David would probably be trying to get some work done. Maybe he was watching the same stupid TV show the gang was watching back at my house. I wondered if he even noticed that we hadn't seen each other in almost a week. He might have been too busy, so I tried not to feel resentful.

At 5:51 I stood in front of David's apartment building.

I told myself that I was only waiting until I could breathe properly after my short run, but after another ten minutes, I still hadn't moved from the spot.

"Nice night for a walk." A familiar voice commented from behind me.

I mentally congratulated myself for not jumping out of my skin from surprise. "Yeah, it is."

I still faced the door to David's apartment building and Dally, from the sound of his voice, was facing my back only a couple of feet behind me.

"Well...what do you find particularly interesting about this apartment building?"

I spitefully spat out, "You know why I'm here. Don't rub it in."

"Yeah." There was silence for a second before Dally continued to bother me. "So...what's the plan?"

"Your plan is to go back to wherever you're sleeping tonight and let me be."

"I would go back to where I'm sleeping, but I'm sleeping at your house tonight and I don't want to be woken up again at 2:00 in the morning when you drag your beaten hide back home to lick your wounds."

"I won't come home then." I said cheekily.

"Still won't get much sleep thinking that you're dying in a ditch somewhere because your asshole of a boyfriend beat you."

"Keep your voice down!" I hissed. I turned towards him for the first time. "Let me get this straight Dally. You don't know shit about my life so stop thinking you do."

With that I turned and finally willed myself to ring the buzzer that would let me into David's apartment. I was surprised that Dally didn't try to stop me.

"What floor is he on?" Dally asked quietly.

"The third floor."

"Fine, but don't take to long. I don't want to be sleeping out here."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you can go up there but if I hear anything from the third floor then I'm coming up."

I rolled my eyes and marched through the door.

* * *

David opened the door after I knocked a couple of times.

He looked more tired than usual today. He always had large, doleful bags under his eyes, but that day they were particularly pronounced.

He closed the door and went to sit at his desk. I sat down awkwardly on his couch.

My brain, taking a very Dally-like tone of voice, reminded me that I had to break it off.

I stole a quick glance at David who was typing up a report furiously. It wasn't often that I missed my relationship with Sandy or other girls, but now was one of those rare times.

Girls fawned over me. If I had a girlfriend, I would be everything to her. She'd probably stay up late talking to me on the phone and we'd go to the movies together. David hardly ever spoke to me when I was there, let alone taking time out of his own day to come see me. Maybe if I broke up with David, I could try to date a girl again. Maybe I would enjoy kissing them now or be able to think of them as anything other than friends.

"David?" I asked, my wistful wonderings giving me strength to speak up.

"Hmm?"

"Can we have a serious talk for a second?"

"What's up?" He turned in his seat so that his legs straddled the hard wooden chair back.

"I think that we shouldn't see each other any more."

It was surprising how easy it was to say the words. Before I had figured out that I didn't like girls, I had never had trouble speaking. My theory was that words are never hard to say, only circumstance makes you feel like they are. But since then I had concluded that some words _must _be near impossible to actually form. Such as the words telling my friends or family about my disease.

David stared at me in shock. "You can't be serious."

"I am." Inside, I was elated. He was taking it far better than I had expected.

He nodded slowly. "Just give me a minute, stay right here."

I was even more shocked when he left the living room and carefully closed his bedroom door behind him. I shifted uncomfortably for a minute or two while I waited for him to reappear. I didn't have to wait long.

He exited his room and walked purposefully towards me. He stood a couple of meters away from me but spoke as quietly as though he were only centimeters away.

"You shouldn't have done that. That was _very _stupid of you." He still sounded measured and controlled. I thought that I might be able to reason with him and leave relatively unscathed.

Until he pulled out the gun.


End file.
